


Krieltjes

by GratiaPlena



Category: Holby City
Genre: Ableist Language, F/F, Mashed Potato Ficathon, Schadenfreude, berena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GratiaPlena/pseuds/GratiaPlena
Summary: "Krieltjes" are tiny potatoes in Dutch. This is my collection of micro-mashes to celebrate the Mashed Potato Ficathon!Because there is no Freude like Schadenfreude: have some tiny Schadengiggles!





	1. Marcus Piper

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse my Dutch. These microfics have not been proofread by native English speakers.

"Mr. Dunn?" Zosia, the registrar looking after Bernie walked towards him. "A message back from your wife." She handed him the note.

"Ah, thanks!" He gleefully unfolded the note. At the top, in his neat handwriting, it said:

"I feel lost without you. I haven't taken this much loneliness since Pen Island. And you remember how that felt!"

Underneath, in his wife's bold script:

"GROW UP"


	2. Edward

"Hello?" Jason opened the front door, and looked at the man in front of him. 

"Hello, are you Jason?"

"Correct," said Jason, still eyeing the man in front of him.

"Serena told me about you. Is she in?"

"She is not," said Jason. "Are you Edward?"

The man nodded. 

"Then I am allowed to let you in to wait for her. She won't be long." Jason stepped aside. And as he closed the door behind Edward, he added: "I'm normally not allowed to let despicable lowlifes into the house, but Auntie Serena said that I can make an exception for you today."

"Is that right," muttered Edward.

Jason showed him to the living room. "It is," he said. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"A beer?" said Edward.

"I'd better not give you something alcoholic. Auntie Serena says she wants you sober. She says you talk nonsense when you drink, and you can't pace yourself."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. She is probably correct, because the porters at the hospital said you would be drunk 24 hours a day, if you had your way. They said that you went into work drunk, even though you are a doctor who is supposed to keep people alive. Why would you do that?" He earnestly looked at Edward.

"That's just hospital talk," said Edward, evading the question.

"Yes, Auntie Serena says that everyone in hospital talks about the private life of everyone else." Jason was glad they had found something that they could agree upon. "For example, the nurses talk about you as well. They say you were an embarrassment to Auntie Serena. With your affairs and your drinking. You almost cost her the promotion, they said. And they can't understand why she kept up with you. But they are happy that Auntie Serena is with Bernie now. She is an asset to Auntie Serena, not a burden. Auntie Serena no longer secretely cries in the office. They say she smiles these days." Jason thought for a moment. "Yes, that's true" he concluded. "She smiles a lot."

"Well, aren't you a barrel of laughs, Jason?"

"I'm not," said Jason. "I am a porter."

A silence fell.

"Ehm..." Jason looked at Edward for a long moment. "Um...I know I should let guests choose where they sit, but would you mind sitting on the other side of the couch?" 

"What's wrong with this side?" asked Edward. The frown lines in his forehead were pronounced, which could indicate irritation. 

Jason thought that Edward would be happy to hear that there was nothing wrong with this side of the couch at all.

"This side is a very fine side," he said. "The best angle to see both the tv, the table, and almost half of the kitchen. Which is why it is Bernie's spot."

 "And?" said Edward. The frown lines had deepened. 

Jason thought Edward was both easily irritated as well as a bit slow. Did Edward not know Bernie? He decided he would be courtious and explain again.

"Bernie always sits here, so she can watch tv with me and look at Auntie Serena when she is doing paperwork or when she is baking." And he added helpfully: "Bernie has an accute sense of smell."

No discernable feedback from Edward. Yet he was still in Bernie's spot. It was making Jason nervous. He tried one last time.

"This is where Bernie sits. She says you reek."

To Jason's eternal gratitude, that was the exact moment he heard the key turn in the front door. His Auntie was much more experienced in the correct social interactions with despicable lowlifes. And anyway, Pointless was on.


	3. Edward and Robbie double mash!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I recommend either: Shirazkindofgirl's [ I'll never eat sausage again!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545638) or Squishmitten's [British Pie (eyed)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14544531) as perfect Edward mash starters to this course of Robbie mash?
> 
> It is all very unfeministic, but I just adore jealous, possessive Bernie. A perfect side dish to a double helping of krieltjes!

Jason’s mother had taught him that he should only share wonderful things with wonderful people. Horrible people would use the information against him. Wonderful people would share in his joy. 

His mother was right. Just that morning, he had once again been reminded of that. He had shared wonderful news with Ric. Bernie was moving in with them! And true to his mother’s wisdom, Ric showed all the signs of deep enjoyment of that news. 

But his mother’s wisdom was currently causing him some upset. He wasn’t sharing the wonderful information that Auntie Serena was his auntie with the man that he was pushing towards the taxi stand. He had been informed that the man in his wheelchair was Edward, Eleanor’s dad and Auntie Serena ex husband. Jason was definitely not going to share one of the happiest things that he knew with this man. There was no way that he would tell him that his aunt was Auntie Serena and that she was his mother’s sister and every now and then her voice was just like his mother’s.  
He felt very determined: he wasn’t even going to share semi-wonderful information with him, such as how lifts work, or what the latin name for Holby was in the Roman age. 

And so there was an uncomfortable silence between them as the lift’s doors closed. Jason frantically searched his memory for the appropriate level of information to share. He finally settled on: “Most female spiders attack inferior males and prefer to mate with superior males. But some strong females kill all males before they get the chance to mate. Researchers think they are probably unable to distinguish males as sources of sperm or food.”

His mother’s wisdom was once more confirmed when Edward didn’t even seem capable of appreciating information that was appropriate for his level of horridness. Jason sighed. He just didn’t know enough despicable information to continue an appropriate conversation… He had to give up. The lift doors opened, and, deep in thought, Jason pushed Edward out.

“Ooouch!” he heard. “Watch where you are going, you imbecile!”

“Robbie!” said Jason. “I didn’t know you were an imbecile, or I would have been more careful.”

“My tooooeeee, you idiot!”

“That is not a nice word,” said Jason. But because he was a friendly neighbour, he had a look at Robbie’s toes anyway. Half of them were hard to see, because they were stuck under the tire of the wheelchair. Jason rolled the wheelchair off. “I’m not a physician, so I’m unqualified to assess your toe. After I have brought this...this...here to the taxi stand, I can bring you to A&E?”

“No need..,” said Robbie through gritted teeth. “I’m here to see your aunt.”

“Ow!” shouted Edward as Jason clapped his hands over Edward’s ears. 

“Auntie Serena is in a meeting,” whispered Jason. “If you wait here..,” but Robbie had hopped into the lift.

“Let go of my head!” Edward jumped out of the wheelchair. “I’ll walk. Please just go!”

Jason shrugged. It was against hospital policies to let patients walk out of hospital after a procedure to the scrotum, but by the time he had caught up with Edward, he would be outside of the hospital.

Hmm, actually, that assessment had been incorrect. Edward was walking in a very strange manner, bent over, shuffling sideways slowly, and hissing “ooowwww!”. Jason considered offering his help anew, pondering hospital policies and porters’ code, but by the time he had come to the conclusion that he really should try to offer his help again, Edward had collapsed into a sad little heap of pain. 

“Help me, owww!” he wailed. 

“Throwing yourself at my feet again, Edward?” said Serena, stepping over him. 

Jason ran towards Edward and clapped his hands over his ears.

“Auntie Serena! I just told Robbie you were in a meeting.”

“I was, but it was a short meeting. Just went out to buy some birthday cake for Sasha.” Serena pushed the lift button. “What’s Robbie doing here?”

“Owww!” said Edward. “Let go of my head and help me into the wheelchair!” 

“Tell me later,” said Serena. She stepped into the lift and waved. “Bye, Edward. Good luck with the…” she gestured. “You know.” 

* * * 

Serena was working at the nurse’s station. Well...working was a bit of a strong word. She was admiring Bernie’s work at bed 4. Well... not exactly Bernie’s work, but more the way that her scrubs were…

“Playing hard to get, Serena?” 

Serena quickly pretended to type something before she looked up into the smirking face of Robbie.

“Ah...Robbie, what are you doing here?” 

“Returning...these?” he was suggestively waving corrective underwear in front of her.

“I suggest you get on with that then,” Serena replied, annoyed by the fact that Robbie was standing between her and Bernie’s expertly skilled ways of handling the patient in bed 4. And by expertly skilled ways, she meant…

“They’re yours!” Robbie had the nerve to interrupt her daydreams once again.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“These briefs; they are yours!” He had the biggest suggestive smirk on his face.

“Robbie, just get lost will you, I’m trying to work. That underwear isn’t mine, and you know it. I don’t know what you are trying to play at, but I don’t want anything more to do with you. Please be so kind as to leave my ward, or I’ll have you removed.”

“But Serena, we…”

“Another word, and I’ll call security..!” she warned.

“All right, all right…” Robbie held up his hands and walked backwards. “But you have my number, so just call me anytime you…” 

He walked backwards into a medical cart that Jason was bringing to Bernie. An enourmous racket sounded accross the ward; the metal of the cart clanged and several medical supplies went flying. Robbie screamed and fell to the floor. “Oooouch!” 

“Oh, no!” screamed Jason. “I have hurt him again! Even though I know he is an imbecile!” 

“Calm down, Jason,” said Serena. “It’s alright. Can you help me pick up the supplies from the floor?” 

She tried to help Robbie up, but he was having none of it. “My arm!” he screamed. “Or my back! Something is wrong!” 

It took some effort by Serena and Fletch, who had come running, to get Robbie up. Together they walked him to bed 1. 

“Bernie, when you are finished, could you come have a look at mr. Medcalf here?” 

Bernie came saundering over. She was always a sight for sore eyes. Serena smiled. Bernie smiled. Serena smiled wider. Bernie winked.

“Oi, I’m in pain here!” screamed Robbie.

“Ah yes, sorry. Bernie, I can’t treat mr. Medcalf, because he is eh..ah.. an ehm..acquaintance.” 

“Acquaintance?!” shouted Robbie. “I’m her lover!” 

“WAS. Very much past tense, Bernie.”

Bernie looked at them both with a frown. “And he is..?”

“Robbie,” said Serena with a sigh.

“Robbie as in Radiosilence Rebound Robbie?” said Bernie. Her eyes were almost closed. Just two little slits remained. Her voice had dropped an octave and was almost a whisper. A quite menacing whisper.

“That Robbie, yes,” said Serena. “Look, if I need to go find another consultant to…”

“No..,” said Bernie, her voice still almost a whisper. “No, no need to inconvenience anyone else. I’m perfectly capable of sound judgement and objective treatment. Are you questioning that, Serena?” 

Serena toyed with her necklace. “Eh..no, no of course. I’ll be..eh...right there. Just, you know, if you need anything.” 

“We’re fine. Aren’t we? Robbie?” said Bernie.

“I’m not fine at all! My arm!” he said.

“Your arm, eh?” Bernie took the scizzors off the medical cart that Jason had wheeled over. She cut the sleeves off his shirt. On both sides. “Well now, does this hurt?” She poked him in the arm.

“OW!” said Robbie. 

“Right,” muttered Bernie.

“Right what?” said Robbie. “That is not the arm that hurts.”

“Ah, excuse me. Does this hurt?”

“OO-OOW!” 

“Bernie, are you sure…” Serena sounded concerned.

“Are you questioning my methods? Because I know a few other life choices that could be questioned.” 

“You do you,” said Serena.

“Thank you. Now, I’m afraid mr. Madcow, that your shoulder needs to be relocated. I take it that you are not a wimp?” 

“I..,” said Robbie.

Bernie looked him straight in the eyes.

“No,” he said, and swallowed.

“Right,” said Bernie. “Then bite down on this. We are relocating Kandahar style.” 

To his credit, Robbie only yelped once. And to Bernie’s credit, the shoulder was perfectly relocated with just the one swift maneuver. 

“There you are, mr. Mash-Elf,” she said. “Nurse Fletcher will do your after care. And just for future reference…” She leaned in close and whispered: “Serena? She’s mine.”


	4. Free mash

"Ah, mr...ehm..Farage?" Serena looked up from the chart to the patient in bed 4. "There appears to be nothing wrong with you. Nothing medically wrong, anyway."

"Actually, I just..."

Serena casually leaned on his face.

"Hmm hmmpff!"

"You know, Fletch? I think, I will have a pasta for dinner. I'm in that kind of mood."

"Good choice, Serena."

"Hmmrrrfff!"

"Why thank you, mister Fletcher! Can I count on you to discharge this...discharge?"

"Consider it done."

"Hrrmmff...manager!!!!" said the patient as Serena sanatised her hands and walked off.

"Yes indeed, she is an excellent manager," said Fletch. "Now, shoo!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a helpful phrase in Dutch: Brexit is kut!


End file.
